


Clothes Make the Man

by missbecky



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Clothing Porn, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 20:16:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9013573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: It's been so long since Harry did anything like this; the whole experience of being measured and fitted long ago lost any sense of fun. Trying on new suits is just part of the job now, something he does once a year the way most people sit through an annual performance review.But this is different. Eggsy made this suit.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deepdarkwaters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepdarkwaters/gifts).



Plenty of people have told Harry he ought to have been a professor because of his propensity for lecturing others. Depending on who's saying it, he's always reacted to this statement with either mild disdain or a gentle threat of violence. But privately he does agree, a little. Not because of the lecturing thing (although this is true), but because he has always enjoyed imparting information to others and sharing his knowledge and experience.

One of his most cherished memories is the look of open joy and wonder on Eggsy's face when he saw what was in fitting room three. Like a child on Christmas morning. Like a young man finally given the tools he needed to turn his life around.

If he could, Harry would give Eggsy the entire world. But even his scope is not that broad, so he limits himself to those things he can give. Education in food and wine, casual etiquette tips. Encouragement and praise, warm kisses and lingering touches.

And things. So many things. He showers Eggsy with gifts. Books and samples of cologne to try. Bottles of liquor and fancy truffles. Tablets and flash drives full of music.

But clothing is his major weakness and always has been. Harry takes him round the shop, not as an agent or employee, but as a valued customer. He piles Eggsy's arms with fabrics and ties, coats and pocket squares.

And Eggsy loves it all. While his taste in casual clothing remains lamentable, he has an excellent eye for what looks good on him. And he takes to the tailoring part of the job with the same enthusiasm and skill he shows for most everything. His Kingsman suits are as exquisitely crafted as anyone else's, but he's also not afraid to try new things, to combine looks and styles until he's created something new and exciting.

So Harry is a little surprised -– but not too much -– when Eggsy stops him one afternoon as they arrive back at the shop on their way home. "Wait. I got something to show you."

He merely nods. He knows Eggsy has been working on a suit, although he has discreetly kept away and refused to ask any questions, trusting that Eggsy would show him the final result when it was ready.

They take their coats off and drape them across the back of the sofa. At this hour the shop is officially closed, but a fire still burns on the hearth and the lights are on. When they are working on a suit, the tailors stay as long as they are needed, but it seems tonight there is no one else around. When they walk into the workroom, they have the place to themselves.

There are several dress forms set throughout the workroom, where suits are displayed in various stages of completion. Bolts of fabric are stacked on the tables. Each workstation is neat and orderly, bastings and fabric properly organized with shears and irons, needle and thread close at hand. The room smells of wool and leather, aftershave and chalk.

Eggsy leads him to a dress form where a suit is ready. His shoulders twitch with nervous tension, and he keeps glancing at Harry's face, waiting for his reaction.

Perfectly aware of this, Harry walks forward slowly, studying the suit. It's an intriguing mixture of traditional tailoring with some rather daring twists. The worsted wool is a lovely charcoal grey, the pinstriping so fine and careful that from a distance the double-vented jacket appears to be a solid colour. The lapels are peaked and the shoulders lack any padding.

More interesting, though, is what's happening beneath the jacket. The waistcoat is the same grey as the suit, but the pinstriping here is not white, but a subtle blue colour. The shirt is a vivid ice blue, the tie is a brilliant blue and silver, while the pocket square is a silver only slightly darker than that on the tie.

"Well?" Eggsy can no longer stay silent.

There is a besom pocket sized just right for a mobile phone, and two flap pockets. Inside the jacket are another two pockets, along with a hidden one tucked into the left sleeve. And when Harry picks up the sleeve he sees that the stitching on the buttonholes is the same colour blue as the striping on the waistcoat. 

"What do you think?" Eggsy asks. He doesn't bother hiding his anxiety anymore.

"I think it's very lovely," Harry says. He turns away from the dress form to face Eggsy. "You did incredible work."

"Yeah?" Eggsy's face lights up. "You really like it?"

"I do," Harry says honestly.

"Good." Eggsy beams with pride. "Cause it's for you."

He can't pretend he's surprised. He had seen instantly that the proportions were all wrong for Eggsy. The trousers and sleeves are too long, the shoulders too broad. This suit was never meant for Eggsy.

His initial instinct is to search for a polite way to refuse. He's worn traditional suits for so long that the thought of putting this one on makes something in him almost cringe. And yet, he can't deny the appeal of the bright colours, the clean lines of the traditional mingled so pleasantly with more modern touches. And this is a gift, the result of many hours of hand-stitching and hard work. It would be terrible to turn it aside simply because he's fallen into such a rut that he can't conceive of doing anything different.

The idea takes hold, strengthens within him. After all, why not? He's been a steady producer of classic Kingsman suits for thirty years now, but in his youth he had rebelled in lots of small ways, refusing to tame his hair with gel and pomade until the situation required it, adding splashes of colour to his suits through ties and pocket squares. He had even pierced his ear, claiming it could prove useful if he ever had to go undercover with a certain element. Arthur had not been pleased, and he had let it go so the hole had closed up over time (but oh how delighted Eggsy had been when he discovered it). All that was many years ago though; it's been a long time since he did anything but walk the company line.

He looks over at Eggsy and sees his expression has closed off. The silence has drawn out too long; Eggsy has reached his own conclusions about Harry's reaction. Seeing that, Harry steps away from the dress form and moves toward him.

"Thank you," he says. "I will wear it with pride."

"Yeah?" Eggsy's gaze searches his face, checking for honesty. He sounds more wary than pleased.

"In fact," Harry says, "I'm rather looking forward to seeing Arthur's face when he sees me in it."

At this, Eggsy lights up all over again. "Yeah," he says. "Me too."

"Shall I put it on?" Harry asks. His earlier misgivings have vanished; he very much wants to try on this amazing gift.

"Fuck yeah," Eggsy says. He gestures toward the front of the shop where the fitting rooms are. "I'll wait for you here?"

"Actually," Harry says mildly, "I was thinking I could use your assistance."

Eggsy catches his breath. He nods. "Yeah. Okay."

They head for fitting room one, where they had once stood together in front of the mirror. In here, he first realised he was falling in love with Eggsy, delighted and touched by Eggsy's simple revelation that he knew _My Fair Lady_. In here he had made the offer for Eggsy to join Kingsman and forever changed both their lives.

Eggsy sets the dress form down in the corner. He looks over at Harry. "Are you…?"

In response Harry spreads his hands a little. An open invitation. A surrendering of himself. Such a gesture does not -- has never -- come easily to him, especially after Kentucky. 

Which is exactly why he does it.

Eggsy bites his lower lip briefly, then walks over to him. "Okay," he says quietly. He reaches for the buttons of Harry's jacket.

Harry stands still and permits it. The suit he's currently wearing is the same one he wore the day he met Eggsy at the Black Prince. The same one he wore to Kentucky. Not the actual garments, of course. Those were lost in the hospital in Kentucky, stiff with blood and gore, a rent in the jacket where he was stabbed, fit only for incineration. But the pattern and cut is the same, a suit he worked on during those weeks when he still struggled with his recovery. It was a promise to himself that he would not be defeated, that he would be a Kingsman agent again, that he would wear the suit once more and not let the memory of what had happened when he last wore it rule him.

Eggsy undoes the buttons with steady hands. He looks down at what he's doing, but Harry watches him. He sees the line of Eggsy's jaw, the nearly healed scratch across the back of his knuckles. He wants very badly to kiss Eggsy, but holds himself back.

The anticipation sends a thrill through him.

Layer by layer, the armour of his suit is removed. First to go is the white pocket square tucked in his jacket, flame retardant and made of a sound dampening material he's put to the test before, coming up behind unsuspecting people and using the tidy square to silence their outcry. Eggsy whisks it out like the weapon it too can be, holding it by the corner that is slightly weighted, allowing the wielder to flick it into a person's eyes, momentarily blinding them. He smirks. "Might as well do this right, yeah?"

"Of course you should," Harry says somberly. But he can't keep the amusement off his face. He knows he isn't the greatest at cutting loose and having fun, but he does so love when they tease each other like this.

Eggsy sets the pocket square on the counter, folding it properly first. Then he returns and walks around to stand behind Harry. He hesitates, then presses a warm kiss to the back of Harry's neck.

Harry smiles at him through the mirror. Eggsy grins back and kisses him again. At this rate they'll still be here at midnight -- and Harry is just fine with that.

Apparently the same thought must occur to Eggsy with different results, though, because he stops goofing around. He reaches up and eases the suit jacket off Harry's shoulders; it's not a smooth move, rather more awkward, but all the more endearing for that. He carefully hangs the jacket from one of the pegs on the nearest shelf and smooths down the nearest lapel before turning away. 

Harry's tie is next, a whisper of silk as the knot is loosened, then the tie itself slips from beneath his collar. It dangles from Eggsy's hand, a deceptively simple but strong strip of cloth that can -- and has -- served as a rope, blindfold, tourniquet, and even once in a pinch, a garrote.

The tie joins Harry's jacket, draped across another wooden peg. Eggsy watches it for a moment, making sure it won't fall, then approaches again. He is more confident now, eager to finish the job he's begun. He smiles a little as he reaches out to trace the leather of the holster nestled beneath Harry's arm. "Too bad there ain't a way you can keep these on."

Harry can't help but smile in return; he knows full well that Eggsy finds the sight of his holsters sexy. It's something they both share, actually. The first time he saw the slender leather straps crossing the pristine white of Eggsy's dress shirt, he had become instantly aroused. 

Since then, not much has changed.

As pleased as he is with the care Eggsy is showing his suit, and the overall serious approach to the matter, part of him wishes Eggsy would hurry it up a little. He wants to try on the new suit. 

More to the point, he wants Eggsy to take _that_ one off.

But he says nothing as he slips the holsters off, doing the work himself; Eggsy stands aside and watches. He sets the holsters on the counter beside the neatly folded pocket square, making sure the guns are within reach should such a thing become necessary. It almost certainly won't, but Harry has survived this long in an extremely dangerous profession by preparing for all outcomes -- even the supposedly impossible ones.

With that done, Eggsy steps up again, taking charge. He glances meaningfully down at Harry's left hand, and with a faint smile, Harry obliges by lifting his arm. Despite his wish for more haste, he stands still as Eggsy undoes the buttons on his cuffs, merely holding out first one hand, then the other, granting easier access. He meets Eggsy's eyes as the buttons on his shirt are undone, one at a time, and he would swear Eggsy lingers deliberately, going more slowly than is necessary.

At last the shirt slides off his shoulders, pristine white fabric still mostly unwrinkled even after a long day. Eggsy takes it and hangs it on the peg next to his suit jacket, covering the tie from view.

"I believe I can handle the rest," Harry says. As much fun as it is to watch Eggsy undress him, he's ready to be done. It's been so long since he did anything like this; the whole experience of being measured and fitted long ago lost any sense of fun. Trying on new suits is just part of the job now, something he does once a year the way most people sit through an annual performance review.

But this is different. Eggsy made this suit. And while he has no doubt that it's just as functional as the other Kingsman suits, it is set apart from them. This one is a gift. This one is an expression of how much Eggsy cares for him.

And besides all that, he really wants to see if he can pull off that blue shirt.

He unlaces his shoes, musing as he does over the new version of the Oxfords that have been promised. According to Merlin, who ought to know, and Eggsy, who's stayed in touch with Amelia since his ascendancy to knighthood, there is something in the works in Berlin. No one is saying what exactly the changes will be, but Harry is betting they'll find a way to cram something into the aiglets at the end of the laces. A needle tipped in poison, a miniature bug, a camera designed to work only when standing still – the possibilities are endless.

Trousers next, folding them over the stand in the corner, keeping the seams straight. Eggsy watches all this with a gleam in his eye, glancing meaningfully at the bulge in his underwear. "Oops," he snickers. "I didn't account for that when I was sewing."

It's tempting to provoke Eggsy into taking him right now, standing with his hands braced on the counter, free on this particular occasion to not need to muffle the sounds they make so no one is aware of what they are doing. But that will have to wait for another day. Harry is determined to see this through.

"A Kingsman is always prepared for anything," he says sternly. "Now, let's see about this suit of yours."

Piece by piece the new armour goes on. The trousers fit perfectly. Eggsy holds out the shirt and he slips his arms into the sleeves. Eggsy drapes it over his shoulders and Harry does up the buttons. After wearing only traditional white or pale blue shirts for so long, the icy blue colour is startling and unusual, enough that it gives him pause. The blue would look better on Eggsy with his changeable eyes, but Harry decides that he likes it. He likes it very much.

So does Eggsy. He smiles at Harry through the mirror. "You look fucking fit."

"Do I?" Harry murmurs, although not without pride.

"You fucking know you do," Eggsy says.

"Well," Harry demurs, but he's pleased. Very pleased.

The waistcoat goes on next, another perfect fit. He smooths it down and tests the depth of the besom pockets. Eggsy fusses at the shoulders, brushing invisible lint off the fabric. For a second Harry wants to whirl around and capture him in a kiss, push him backward across the short span of the fitting room, rip open the brand new waistcoat and send buttons flying into the corner.

Then Eggsy backs away so he can take the blue and silver tie off the dress form, and Harry – somewhat reluctantly – lets go of the fantasy.

"Would you do the honors?" he asks.

Eggsy smiles again. He loves making intricate tie knots: the Eldredge, Trinity, Cape Knot, although he uses them only for himself. Tonight, though, he sinks his teeth into his lower lip and gets started.

His hands move quickly, confidently, wrapping the silk around itself, giving it a twist at one point so the seam is facing outward. Harry watches in the mirror and can't help but smile when he recognises the knot, aptly named [True Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hrgu75j-Llw) for its rather heart-shaped appearance.

As if he needed more proof of how much Eggsy loves him.

Eggsy tucks the remaining end of the tie beneath Harry's collar, then steps back a little to study his handiwork. "It looks wonderful," Harry says.

"Yeah," Eggsy says. He nods and looks up, and it's clear his response is not just about the tie knot. "It really does."

That leaves only the jacket. Harry puts it on, pleased with how it settles across his shoulders. He adjusts his cuffs, buttons the jacket, and then gazes into the mirror, judging the effect of the entire ensemble.

What he sees is a man wearing a beautiful suit. The true work of art isn't the suit itself, though, but rather the young man who made it. Devoting countless hours of time to its creation, taking care to select just the right colours and fabrics, knowing just how far he could push Harry out of his comfort zone.

"Still like it?" Eggsy asks. There's a faint edge of anxiety back in his voice.

"Yes, I do," Harry says. He turns away from the mirror and finally lets himself kiss Eggsy.

Eggsy kisses him back, breathless and a little rushed, relief making him somewhat graceless. Harry could care less. He enfolds Eggsy in his arms and Eggsy clings back, hands splayed against his back and the charcoal grey suit jacket.

When they break apart, Eggsy is flushed and Harry is very aware that Eggsy did not take this kind of thing into account when sewing his new trousers. He doesn't mind, though; he's always enjoyed the anticipation.

"Now then," he says. "Why don't we head home? I suggest we walk."

"Fuck that," Eggsy says. "It's cold out. 'Sides, I don't wanna wait that long." He fingers the lapel of Harry's jacket. "Now that I got you in this, all I wanna do is take it off you."

Harry smiles. "As do I, my dear."

Eggsy grins. "Then what are we waiting for?" With none of his former care, he practically rips Harry's old suit jacket and shirt off the pegs where they have been hanging. He drapes them across his arm, tosses Harry's tie and trousers on top, and then stands there impatiently.

Together they leave the fitting room and walk through the shop. Harry almost wishes they _were_ walking, if only so he could show off both his new suit and the incredible man who made it. Then Eggsy looks up at him from where he's putting Harry's old suit into a garment bag, his eyes dark with desire, and Harry forgets about walking down Savile Row.

The only person he wants to model for is standing right here.

"I suggest you hurry," he says. He puts his coat back on but does not button it. "I'm going home and I'm taking this suit off, with or without you."

"You better fucking wait for me," Eggsy threatens as he zips up the garment bag.

In response, Harry just turns and walks out of the shop.

It is indeed cold out, and it's dark, although the street is well lit. He's grateful for the heavy weight of his coat, and the small but added layer of warmth the blue-striped waistcoat provides. He breathes in deep and looks around, then smiles a little as the door behind him opens.

"Ready?" he says.

"Yeah." Eggsy walks up to stand beside him. His coat is also unbuttoned, and he holds the garment bag at his shoulder, the weight of it draped down his back. 

"Good," Harry says. "Then let's go home."


End file.
